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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393571">Stuck In My Own Mind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/melennui/pseuds/melennui'>melennui</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Gen, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:47:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/melennui/pseuds/melennui</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim hides away in his room and in his bed, alone and upset.</p><p>Sometimes, you just need a nudge in the right direction from a little animal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Batfamily Members &amp; Tim Drake, Tim Drake &amp; Alfred the Cat, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Alfred Pennyworth &amp; Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne &amp; Damian Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd &amp; Bruce Wayne &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>300</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stuck In My Own Mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i was trying to force myself to finish a found-family merlin fic in my docs but im really just not feeling it. this, however, is something im feeling. angst, listlessness, feeling lost in my thoughts are definitely something im feeling, so it’s far easier to write than some cute little ‘sick warlock and his himbo friends’.</p><p>yeah, im proud of it. this story has become my nightly outlet because right now i feel trapped and need to release them brain goblins somehow. </p><p>try listening to a lowkey, calm, nostalgic song while you read if you need to evoke the same sense i and tim are feeling in this story. </p><p>(quick clarification that i dont really *like* canon all that much, so some timelines and story ideas blur together into something i think is cohesive enough for you to just shrug at and accept. now, i know there are wonderful canon moments where everyone has a very realistic relationship, but we know that isnt what im referring to. how the boys treat each other during most times just feels really unrealistic in most instances. like, yeah, aggressive teasing, bullying, punching kicking, totally normal. even making an attempt on someone’s life a couple of times for Jason and Damian makes sense, but give it a break already, jesus christ. i dont need immediate cuddles and head pats or anything (as much as i like them), but give me a flowing relationship! i hope this makes sense and satisfies you.)</p><p>edit: im not saying you cant like that other stuff, that's just my opinion. carry on lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He didn’t feel bad. Just. Stuck.</p><p> </p><p>Tim felt stuck inside his own head without any sort of self expression to release some of the built up pressure. With the lack of an outlet, the teen found himself in bed by noon.</p><p> </p><p>The raven wasn’t tired by any means, but what else was he going to do? Case work felt impossible and he forced himself to complete his schoolwork that morning. The boys around the manor were off doing their own thing and didn’t want to join in.</p><p> </p><p>He’d gotten so addicted to being alone that the presence of others exhausted him too quickly to be enjoyable. </p><p> </p><p>There were no video games that piqued at his interest or music that he cared to listen to. Youtube only provided so much and his Twitter feed made him feel even worse. The only thing that sounded even remotely appealing was to just. Not. Exist. Like, to close his eyes and open them when he felt better. </p><p> </p><p>That was how Tim found himself tucked away in his room until sundown. No one had bothered to grab him for supper, and that was alright. Sometimes he forgot to grab Dick or Damian for dinner too. </p><p> </p><p>During the night, there were knocks at his door for patrol, but the teen stayed quiet and hoped whoever was on the other side assumed he was catching up on sleep and not staring at a wall with too-dry eyes and a cramp in his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>They left, in the end. </p><p> </p><p>A few hours following the minor disruption, Tim found himself padding across his soft carpeted floor and out into the hallway, locating the nearest bathroom. Despite being most likely alone on the upper level of the manor, he found himself creeping quietly, as not to disturb the night. Old habits die hard.</p><p> </p><p>He relieved himself, then avoided the mirror and he washed his hands. As he tiptoed out of the washroom, a fuzzy lump, also known as Alfred the Cat blocked his path. Tim felt himself bend down to pet it before continuing his journey back to his bedroom. The cat followed closely on his heel and joined the teenager.</p><p><br/>
Tim was hesitant to allow it to trail him inside the room, but ultimately left the door cracked enough so that if the animal decided to abandon him during his sulk, he wouldn’t have to get up just to open the door to do so. </p><p> </p><p>Before climbing in the bed, Tim wiped his bare feet on the carpet as a sort of polite gesture. The room, <em> his </em>room never quite felt like his, and the bed was no exception. He didn’t want to drag any dirt or grime into the clean white sheets as he laid sullenly. He may not have been raised conventionally by his biological parents, but they didn’t raise an impolite child. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (They didn’t raise him at all. The books he read and shows he watched did. The housekeepers and library aids did. His parents just got all of the credit.) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Alfred the Cat watched him set his head on the pillow and  breathed out through his nose loudly. The cat’s eyes slit and it’s head tilted. He couldn’t help but to be reminded of Mrs Norris from Harry Potter. It’s watchful eyes, ready to report back to Damian for suspicious activity.</p><p> </p><p>If that brat tattled to Bruce about Tim skipping out, Tim was never letting Afred the Cat near him again. </p><p> </p><p>During his younger years, when he lived in the Drake manor, he would have killed for a pet. His parents told him he was allergic, but Tim argued that he wouldn’t mind the itchy eyes and the occasional hives outbreak. Anything was better than the crushing loneliness. </p><p> </p><p>The couple shared a look before opting to stare at their child with an air of piercing reprimand. One thing they had in common was if you didn’t talk about it, it didn’t happen. </p><p> </p><p>Tim started to close his eyes, trying to forget his mind’s topic, when Alfred the Cat jumped on his bed. A little <em> mrrr? </em>alerted him to it, but he still shrieked when the cat landed on his legs. The black and white feline paid him no mind as it marched up to Tim’s shoulder, where it kneaded for a moment before plopping down and purring loudly. </p><p> </p><p>Tears came to the teenager’s eyes at the thought that a cat that <em> wasn’t even his </em>chose to snuggle with him. He wondered if that was why Damian cared so much for the little fuzzball. At that moment, it felt like nothing compared to being chosen by the cat. </p><p> </p><p>Hesitantly, Tim twisted his arm around to stroke the cat’s head. Alfred the Cat tilted it’s head and leaned into Tim’s hand. The boy wiped his leaking eyes on the pillow, not daring to touch his eyes with the animal fur on his fingertips. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, fur-brain.” Tim croaked quietly. “Thanks for choosing me.” </p><p> </p><p>He paused for a moment before adding as an afterthought, “And please don’t rat me out to Damian.”</p><p> </p><p>The fur-brain in question nuzzled Tim’s shoulder before shoving it under itself and snoozing off.</p><p> </p><p>The teen considered taking a page out of the cat’s book, but his mind wouldn’t shut off. The trapped feeling never left. Instead, it suffocated him further. Instead, Tim watched the position of the moon lower as the sun came up from the light shining through his open window on the wall he was staring at.</p><p> </p><p>Alfred the Cat stayed asleep the entire time, bringing the boy to tears only twice more. </p><p> </p><p>Unsurprisingly, Alfred the Butler knocked on Tim’s still-cracked door in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>“Master Timothy, despite your sudden urge to construct a normal sleeping schedule, I still do expect you for breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>The dark haired boy prayed that the older man wouldn’t open the door anymore. To be safe, Tim pretended to be asleep anyways, closing his eyes and relaxing his body. He focused on the breathing cat at his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>The telltale creaking of the bedroom door opening further, which was accompanied shortly with the butler’s soft huff of amusement at the sight of the cat and grumpy teenage boy snuggling. </p><p> </p><p>Alfred shut the door, but Tim didn’t open his eyes again. It felt nice to keep them closed. They were so dry from hours of just… staring and thinking that it felt nice to think with his eyes closed.</p><p> </p><p>He studied the faint light blobs on the back of his eye lids, the shapes reminding him of Dr. Seuss’s characters, with their pale colors and thick streaks making up their design. The more he focuses on the blobs, the brighter they appear. Quickly, the sneetches and Fizza-ma-Wizza-ma-Dill turn into the duck and puma from Brown Bear and Tim feels nothing but yearning for his mom, who read to him on special occasions. For his father, who would sit in the same room and listen, drinking from a mug and snorting when his wife stumbled over Dr Seuss made-up words. </p><p> </p><p>Looking back, she was probably trying to speed up the occasion and put her son to bed, but at the time, Tim remembered laughing too, because his mom would get flustered and roll her eyes when the boy corrected her.</p><p> </p><p>It took a moment to register, but Tim’s bedroom door opened back up and the shuffling of many feet alerted the boy. Tim kept his body lax and mirrored sleep, but his mind was reeling with thoughts and memories so quickly that it wasn’t funny.</p><p> </p><p>“Timmy?” </p><p> </p><p>It was Dick, with his too-cautious tone and soft words.</p><p> </p><p>Alfred spoke next, a sort of gentle endearment lacing his tone. “Now, look who’s joining him.”</p><p> </p><p>The destrubed gasp of a bullheaded brat started Tim far too much than he would have liked to admit.</p><p> </p><p>“He stole Alfred the Cat!”</p><p> </p><p>A series of soft <em> shhs </em> silenced the youngest, but Tim knew his flinch had given away his consciousness. </p><p> </p><p>“Actually, the furball followed me.” Tim tried to say, but all that came out was a garbled “d’meh.”</p><p> </p><p>Dick laughed softly and Bruce chuckled. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on now, aren’t you hungry little guy*?” Bruce tried to reason. Despite it’s teasing origins, the nickname still warmed Tim’s heart.</p><p> </p><p>“Bu’… cat.”</p><p> </p><p>The dark haired boy snuggled deeper into his pillow, feeling self conscious as the Wayne family stared at Tim. Slowly, the teen peeled off the blankets and wiggled out of bed, leaving Alfred the Cat mostly undisturbed. </p><p> </p><p>Dick wrapped a blanket around his younger brother’s shoulders, as if he were responding to a sixth sense for teenagers in need. Tim leaned into the touch, Dick’s body being the only thing keeping him up when his knees buckled. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, Timbit, who’s carrying you downstairs?” Jason grumbled, taking a step backwards. Bruce shot his second oldest a <em> look </em>and guided Tim out the door. </p><p> </p><p>The teen sniffled, trying to hide his shining tears behind the blanket, although he had a suspicion it convinced no one. </p><p> </p><p>Dick and Damian quietly argued over the ethics of Damian pushing Tim over after Tim ‘stole’ his cat. Jason stuck close to Bruce, who was ushering Tim with Alfred trailing close behind. </p><p> </p><p>“How did you sleep?” The big bat himself asked softly, warm hands gently grasping the shorter raven. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t.” Tim mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Tim noticed that Bruce wasn’t leading everyone to the kitchen, but to the family den instead. Alfred pulled out some blankets and pillows from the surrounding cabinets and placed them on the large, plush couches around the room. </p><p> </p><p>“I think last night was rough on everyone, so how about we take it slow this morning. Alfred, could you bring out some food in here?”</p><p> </p><p>The butler smiled warmly and obliged.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, good. I was worried we’d actually have to suffer through a formal meal together.” Jason sighed, collapsing on the love seat. Dick unfolded a blanket and offered it to Tim, then wrapped it around the one he already had, making him feel like a little Tim-burrito. Bruce took a seat on the main sofa and Dick sprawled out on the other side of the same couch. </p><p> </p><p>The oldest reached out for Tim, tugging on him until the teen laid over Dick’s lap, head on his lap. Damian was left standing alone, looking faintly aloof with Tim taking up where Damian would normally sit. </p><p><br/>
Tim snorted and patted the back of the couch in between Bruce and Tim’s feet, where there was a little bit of room to cuddle against Bruce. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, you bastard. Stop standing all weird and get in here.” The teen laughed as the youngest huffed and delicately placed himself next to Bruce.</p><p> </p><p>The older man responded by wrapping his arms around the youngest. Bruce shot Tim a look of gratitude as everyone settled in and relaxed.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Jay, you know, there’s some room left here an-” Dick tried to coax his younger brother over.</p><p> </p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>After a moment, Jason draped himself across the back of the couch, ultimately satisfying Dick into slipping off into the dreamscape. Tim smiled up at his former Robin and Jason stuck his tongue out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*'Little guy' is the playful nickname that my version of Bruce gave Tim for his height, but is almost always used endearingly</p><p>totally unedited and all written in one night. i didnt mean to write about a cat, but my little cat was so cute and vibin with me that i needed to add one.</p><p>i dont have a tumblr to plug, so if you want to see more, just lemme know! i respond to all comments. this was my first batman fic, so please let me know how i did</p><p>(update after writing this: i feel better now)</p><p>edit bc i forgot to site that i dont own Harry Potter by JK Rowling, Dr Seuss characters, or Brown Bear by bill Martin Jr. i know me saying this doesn't matter, but it's good etiquette lol</p></blockquote></div></div>
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